


Sandwich Gambits

by MagicaLauren



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Demons, M/M, Rare Pairings, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaLauren/pseuds/MagicaLauren
Summary: Groggily he rubs his eyes, “What’s going on? Who even are you?” The demon comes around the side of his bed awkwardly holding a sandwich, sitting on the edge. “You summoned me for a night's rest and a sandwich, um, I’ve never made sandwiches before so I hope it’s satisfactory, I also put you to sleep for nine hours. My name is Daichi,” he patiently answers.“Ah,” sitting up Iwaizumi accepts the sandwich, as if it makes perfect sense.





	

**Step 1: Summon a demon for food**

 

Iwaizumi is desperate. 

 

Like ‘willing - to - hire - this - sketchy - guy - off - craigslist - because - he - said - he’ll - quietly - murder - my - roommates -for - me’ desperate. And that’s way too many words with hyphens for Iwaizumi to feel mentally stable.

 

Honestly, there has to be a crystal for this somewhere right? Because if Oikawa is going to be his Oikawa self, dragging him into every spell -or whatever is going on here- then Iwaizumi reserves the right to not stay up every. full. moon.

 

He just does.

 

Hanamaki is giggling again, hysterically. Are fae even allowed in covens? 

 

Seeing this as a good time to bring up his concern, Iwaizumi repeated the question aloud, only to increase Hanamaki’s giggling. “My clan has always had strong ties to the craft Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki’s half crazed voice explains. Cracking one eye open, Iwaizumi looks meaningfully between Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who is drawing sigils in the moonlight, “the craft or specific practitioners?” he teases Maki.

 

Hanamaki only winks, following Matsukawa around the drawn circle holding a thick book, between his hands. 

 

Groaning again -just to reinforce his disapproval, at well, everything- Iwaizumi drags his hands over his face, “Why are you doing this in my room? Is it to ruin my life? I have done nothing but dedicate my energy to this-”

 

“Iwa-chan! You’re awake!” the devil himself flounces -actually flounces at eleven at night- into the room. He stumbles around holding two different bags of energized crystals and balancing a crystal ball in the crook of his elbow. 

 

Iwaizumi’s face pulls back in disgust at the energy just flowing off of Oikawa. 

 

Revolting.

 

Burying his face back into his pillow, Iwaizumi desperately tries to ignore the gathering coven in his bedroom. “Why are you doing this,” he demands, more than questions, into his pillow. Iwaizumi could  _ hear  _ Oikawa open his mouth,

 

“I had a dream-”

 

“You’ve never had your magic tied to dreams,”

 

“-And I saw this cat demon, who was also a guy-”

 

“A werecat?”

 

“-And he was arguing with this snake dude-”

 

“Stop trying to make nonbinary snake people a thing,”

 

“-Aaaand long story short, I’m in love. And I need to summon them. Now.”

 

“That explained,” Iwaizumi waves his arm, shifting to look at his grinning best friend,“nothing actually. You’ve explained nothing. Besides, you aren’t a summoner, your affinity is with space.”

 

“Which is whyyy,” Oikawa begins slyly, immediately, Iwaizumi knows where he’s going, watching as he innocently lays his crystals around the sigil, “ _ you _ are going to help me, isn’t that great?” 

 

“No, I’m not. Because it’s the middle of the night.”

 

Hanamaki is giggling again, gaudy jewelry glinting under a ridiculously pointy hat. “In the name of true love I command thee! Iwaizumi Hajime of Japan, rise and fulfill your duty!” Makki proclaims, practically yelling. Matsukawa, also laughing, lifts a glitter covered hand and crooks his finger at Iwaizumi as if to summon him. 

 

Iwaizumi huffs into his bedding, hugging his pillow tighter.

 

“Hmph, don’t support me,” Oikawa flips his hair, turning toward the moon, with a dangerously calculating look. Hopefully calculating  his own demise, although Iwaizumi wouldn’t put his money on it.

 

Watching with one eye, Iwaizumi refused to join in on the proceedings, snuggling into his bedding more. 

 

Until.

 

That sigil is  _ so off _ .

 

Throwing off his sheets, Iwaizumi stocks over, determinedly ignoring the energy Oikawa is giving off in excitement.  “Wrong here. And here. This line needs to be about five inches to the left for summoning. God you guys…”

 

And thus, Iwaizumi (unwillingly) joins the shit show that is his coven summoning a demon. Unwillingly, just to clarify again.

 

The moonlight shines on his back by the time they finish- more toward early morning than late night. Silver light illuminates the room’s crystals, Makki’s jewels, and glinting along Mattsun’s shimmery skin. Oikawa, a moon witch, is glowing with the energy of a full moon.

Fondly, Iwaizumi looks around, considering how they look, as well as his own pajamas of just a t shirt and shorts. What a bunch of nerds. 

 

Sitting cross legged, they surround the sigil drawn on the floor, fit to summon a demon. They even hold hands like a trust exercise. The candles drip low, their voices hum in unison as they chant.

 

It goes...wrong.

 

Here’s the thing about summonings: they are one hundred percent about intent. Say you have a Ouija board, your intent is to summon a spirit, hopefully friendly. 

 

Or, hey, say it’s the night of a full moon and you plan on summoning a demon, oh and hey, let’s say that your intent is amplified by a lunar witch who’s super charged on said full moon. Let’s just say, for the sake of an example. 

 

It’s not exactly his proudest moment, but Iwaizumi doesn’t really care for Oikawa’s ‘attractive demon’ friends or whatever, what he wants - truly wants- is a full night's sleep; then maybe a good sandwich for lunch, because he hasn’t even eaten lunch for the past week- too busy studying.

 

That’s what happens, he supposes, when you don’t live with your parents.

 

So step one, intent, has already failed.

 

At first he thinks he’s succeeded, because ‘black haired and gorgeous’ was a description that Oikawa gave. But when the demon looks around he locks eyes with Iwaizumi rather than Oikawa, tanned skin glowing in the moonlight, and softly asks, “Are you okay?”

 

The kneejerk response Iwaizumi has to offer is “No.”

 

Thick brows draw together as the man approaches Iwaizumi slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal.

 

He debates for a second, the merits of flinching away, but his eyes are locked onto the dark eyes of a demon who seems to wrap himself in shadows and moonlight.

 

\- When he comes to it’s without remembering even passing out. A mid day sun shines outside, and completely it is silent in. Terrifying, after sharing an apartment with Oikawa, Makki, and Mattsun for more than a week. His room is completely clean as well, unnervingly so, no remnants of the ritual last night.

 

Iwaizumi wishes he could be content to pretend the night never happened. Unfortunately, pretending things like that, more times than not, has come back in nasty ways. 

 

His eyes search the room for answers and land on the straight backed demon standing at the foot of Iwaizumi’s bed, as if unsure where else to stand. 

 

Iwaizumi is used to summoning spirits, nasty poltergeists, ghosts for seances, but rarely demons. Silently he studies the demon who seems to be studying him back. Then, the demon opens his mouth with slow and steady words, “I made you a sandwich.”

 

It’s absurd, the whole idea of it. 

 

Groggily he rubs his eyes, “What’s going on? Who even  _ are  _ you?” The demon comes around the side of his bed awkwardly holding a sandwich, sitting on the edge. “You summoned me for a night's rest and a sandwich, um, I’ve never made sandwiches before so I hope it’s satisfactory, I also put you to sleep for nine hours. My name is Daichi,” he patiently answers. 

 

“Ah,” sitting up Iwaizumi accepts the sandwich, as if it makes perfect sense. Leaning against the wall he looks out at his room -clean now- but still cluttered. A too big bed and too small desk, sun filtering in from the wide open curtains. 

 

“Well, I do feel weirdly well rested?” he half questions in appreciation, biting into the sandwich.

 

Oh.

 

“It’s really good.”

 

“I’m glad,” Daichi nods, and wow he’s tall looking down at him, Iwaizumi sits up to meet Daichi at eye level, “Your roommates helped me.” Iwaizumi tries not to think of the disaster his kitchen must be, just focuses on the taste of the sandwich and Daichi. 

 

“So,” he grunts, chomping down on another bite “What’s your story?” For a second Daichi looks around the room confused, as though looking for who Iwaizumi is addressing, “Like how you fell,” he clarifies. Some demons, he knows, like to brag about their fall, how they defied a system of oppression and learned to accept themselves.

 

Iwaizumi’s gotten good at knowing stuff like that through the years of witch hood. 

 

Daichi looks surprised, a little unsure, then tilts his head slightly beginning to speak, “When I was an angel,” he carefully picks his words, “I had a charge- a human charge. Angels like me always do. Guardian angels your people call us.” Iwaizumi settles in, eating his sandwich slower. He’s never summoned an angel, or had to do a seance for one, so he doesn’t know as much of their hierarchy as he maybe should.

 

“Sugawara Koushi,” Daichi says the name as though he is giving Iwaizumi something, and maybe he is. “He played volleyball like you,” Iwaizumi doesn’t question how Daichi knows this, “Sugawara was beautiful on the court, he could fly in the way even angels can’t. I loved him, platonically. Oh but,  _ him _ , humanity, the beauty. He fascinated me. But, Angels cannot have emotions, they are a mortal err,” Daichi shrugs as if to say  _ oh well _ , “My wings were cut.”

 

Iwaizumi can imagine that, Daichi seems like the kind of person that story belongs to. Even now, as the sun hits the planes of Daichi’s face Iwaizumi can imagine him as an angel.

 

They sit silently for a moment, comfortably. 

 

Eventually Iwaizumi gives something of his own, an admittance “I hadn’t meant to summon you, my roommate Oikawa was looking for some other demons,” Daichi twists around from the edge of the bed to look at Iwaizumi. “I know,” he says, “Kuroo and Daishou,” and for a second irritation flickers across Daichi’s face. Iwaizumi feels the familiar need to apologize for whatever Oikawa did.

 

Surprisingly though, it wasn’t Oikawa, “Tell your friend to watch out, those two are,” Daichi lets out an aggrieved sigh, “more than just a handful.” Dread rises in Iwaizumi’s stomach, that is not a clash he’s excited to see then.

 

Finishing off his sandwich Iwaizumi stands up, he searches first for a water bottle that  _ doesn’t  _ have lambs blood, or something equally ridiculous, and then his wallet. Turning back to Daichi he holds his wallet half open, “How much do I owe you?” he asks. Waving him off Daichi tells him no price, Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, “no offense, but I don’t trust that from a demon. And I'm not selling you my soul for a sandwich.” 

 

Crookedly Daichi grins, “On my honor,” then disappears.

 

* * *

  
  


**Step two: Befriend said Demon, because it’s not like you have anything to lose**

 

They meet again on a Saturday night, the weekend mean he doesn’t have to wake up early, so Iwaizumi wanders the city streets, soaks in the energy.

 

He sits on a brick wall,  Iwaizumi’s sneakers swing back and forth hitting a spray painted sigil he outlined beneath him. He stares up at the night sky wondering what kind of crazy ritual Oikawa will perform tonight, if Kuroo and Daishou will join him. He’s sure Hanamaki and Mattsun are dancing around some fire in the forest. 

 

Tonight he sits alone.

 

Until-

 

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he speaks, eyes upturned toward the stars. Iwaizumi turns startled, breath catching. “Daichi,” he returns, surprised, “you’re back. Why are you back?” Daichi hums, not deigning to answer. Iwaizumi is used to vague ethereal creatures (Shittykawa, he thinks bitterly), so he knows not to press the matter. 

 

Daichi’s face is hard to make out in the dark, overhead stars are blocked out from pollution, the moon is waning. Still, Iwaizumi’s gaze studies Daichi’s expression, trying to decipher it, if only for a moment. Turning away, he leans back on his hands and joins Daichi in looking at a darkened sky -flickering stars, a few glowing planets- then reaches out with his hand. He uses a spell that Oikawa’s mother used to, tracing out constellations when they were kids, dragging light to connect the stars.

 

Iwaizumi keeps track in his head,  _ Orion, Pegasus, Aquarius,  _ he traces out, ignoring Daichi’s heavy gaze. In a quiet rumble Daichi begins to name them, following Iwaizumi hand, “Scorpio.... Perseus… The Herdsman…” soothing. Iwaizumi lets his magic fade, the drawings dissipating as they fall back into silence, just leaning back on their hands.

 

Both parties thoughts wander, although neither could tell what the other was thinking.

 

“I made you another sandwich,” Daichi says, pulling Iwaizumi out of his thoughts. “Once again, I’m not sure how good it will be, I had Sugawara teach me how.” Iwaizumi’s brows pull up in surprise, “You speak to Sugawara? He was your charge wasn’t he? Isn’t that like, against the rules or something?” he questions. Daichi shrugs, eyes alight with something, and despite his probable age of millions of years, he looks young, like a college student who snuck out of dorms to go stargazing. 

 

“Demon,” Daichi laughs, shrugging away his cares.

 

Iwaizum is suspicious, especially with the reminder of  _ who  _ exactly Daichi is, nonetheless he accepts the sandwich, side eying his companion. 

 

Oh.

 

Daichi makes the best sandwiches. 

 

Instantly Iwaizumi feels like he’s in a better mood, and wonders what exactly Daichi put in there- drugs or something? Turning to ask, Daichi chuckles and rattles off a list of boring ingredients that Iwaizumi is sure he’s used before. The two laugh in companionship before letting their conversations drift.

 

“So did you ever have schooling?” 

 

“I- I can’t really remember?”

 

“Oh man, count yourself lucky. I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Not what I learned but the  _ experience.” _

 

“That good huh?”

 

“I’ve tried so many memory spells to erase the pain…”

 

They gesticulate with their hands, excitedly sharing anecdotes, brought to life by the night air. The city buzzes with an energy both soak in.

 

“So can demons do spells?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“We could find out?”

 

“Pfft, that sounds irresponsible. Give it time, I’m sure Kuroo, Daishou and Oikawa will tell us in no time.”

 

At one point they hop off the wall and head down to a convenience store, stocked with magical items, if one knows where to look. Iwaizumi skips over those isles tonight, grabbing soft drinks instead, one for Daichi and himself. 

 

“Ah, and who is this handsome young man?” the granny that runs the shop asks behind the counter. Daichi laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush is kind of cute and Iwaizumi can see the angel in him again. “Aww, that’s Daichi. He’s shy,” Iwaizumi teases, lightly bumping his companion. It's easy, knowing Daichi, talking to him. “Uh huh,” she nods, looking between the two, “and where is Oikawa on a fine night like this?” she questions, barking laughter at Iwaizumi’s resounding ‘ugh’. 

 

As the two turn to leave, heading back out, she tosses them a box of candies with a wink, turning back to a glowing light in her back room. Iwaizumi recognizes them as enchanted pop rocks him and Oikawa would share on summer nights. 

 

Excitedly he explains them to Daichi, “They make you feel different textures, and the different textures trigger different emotions. So you might get like, home made brownies and feel nostalgia.” Daichi nods along, biting his thick lip.

The two loop around the block, ending back up on the spray painted wall, a few feet down from before. They climb back up, exchanging candies.

 

“It tastes acidic,” Daichi says with a puckered face, then with a considering look, “I think I feel jelousy.”

 

“Ah,” Iwaizumi nods, “What a bitch,” then pops in another candy.

 

At first a sweet taste fills his mouth, then an explosion of tastes, like all the candies and hot dogs at a fair, with a tang he can’t quite name. Confusion. It fills him up, and he’s staring at a problem, rereading a sentence, looking for his friends in a crowd. 

 

On impulse he just  _ has to ask _ , “So why did you come back to me?”

 

Plopping another candy on his tongue, “I dunno, you just seemed like you needed guarding I suppose.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Step 3: Sell your soul or fall in love with a demon. There is no in between.**

 

Iwaizumi feels bothered. And not all hot and bothered either, just a general sense of bothered. 

 

He does the ‘guarding’ usually with his friends, sure he gets pissy, but admittedly, he is the designated Mom Friend. 

 

Sitting on the sofa he blankly watches a recording of Oikawa’s new favorite show, munching on lacquered candy.

 

Confusion. 

 

This is the fifth time in a row.

 

Wednesday night, but Iwaizumi doesn’t have any studying. Oikawa is off doing -Iwaizumi was too scared to ask- followed by Mattsun, carrying a mysterious human sized bag. Makki is shut up in his room, although it’s glowing under the door, and he keeps cackling. 

 

So now is as good a time to think as Iwaizumi can get living here.

 

He works his jaw around the mix of flavors as Amber gets slapped on T.V, quietly letting his mind drift.

 

And then-

 

The only warning Iwaizumi gets is a sandwich in his lap and suddenly Daichi is sitting next to him, a warm expression that he directs at the television, calmly watching Lindsey get dragged by the hair. 

 

“Uh, thanks,” Iwaizumi quickly gets up to put his sandwich in the refrigerator for lunch tomorrow. He takes a moment to breathe before heading back out to the couch. “So,” he approaches Daichi, “did you want to talk or something?” Daichi shrugs and smiles at Iwaizumi.

 

“Just wanted to hang out I guess. I like hanging out with you,” Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows. Settling in next to Daichi, Iwaizumi picks back up the box of candies. This time he gets a cool creamy taste, mint chocolate ice cream, the feeling of relaxation. 

 

“You like hanging out with me?” Iwaizumi questions as the two observe the television, blue light cast over their faces. For a moment neither say anything, staying completely still in the moment. Then Iwaizumi shuffles, offering the open box of candy to Daichi who shakes his head in dissent, before sucking on another himself.

 

It tastes like Daichi’s sandwiches, but Iwaizumi isn’t too sure what the emotion is. Optimism, maybe, something blooming, and he can almost feel a warm sun and cool spring breeze on his skin.

 

Huh.

 

“Want to go on a date or something?” He asks, feeling like the candies are telling him to go for it, or something equally weird. Daichi jumps, turning to face him, “Shouldn’t we hang out more first?”

 

A few thoughts pass through Iwaizumi’s head. He considers the fact that Daichi is a demon, the fact that he himself is a witch. He thinks about the statement hanging in the air, the fact that they haven’t had much time to get to know each other. His thoughts wanders to Makki’s cackling, wonders if Queen Titania and Makki know each other. Finally his mind settles on a guy who he met a few years back, wanted a seance for a friendly ghost he said. Someone he served coffee to at his job, he blushed, she stuttered, and he left his number on the cup. Quite the love story. The girl had picked up a black tea with cream and then stumbled out into the streets with a promise to call- straight into an oncoming car. 

 

He knows Daichi’s a demon, demon don’t die. He thinks about that too, his mortality perhaps a little heavy for a third meeting. 

 

But looking at Daichi’s face-

 

The hard set face of an avenging angel, the startling humor of a demon. And the little mixes of both. Time doesn’t seem all that important.

 

Iwaizumi shrugs noncommittally, “I dunno, I like hanging out with you too though.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Haikyuu or it's characters.  
> This was my Haikyuu Fantasy Exchange gift, I hope my giftee and any other readers enjoy! Thank you to everyone who gave their opinions while I was writing this!  
> Constructive criticism is encouraged!  
> Thank you for reading


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